


Beginning

by good_ribosome



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Dancing, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Obsession, Romance, Smut, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:44:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/good_ribosome/pseuds/good_ribosome
Summary: The most precious memories you have of Arthur are the first times you shared.They are also the most painful.





	1. Dance

**Author's Note:**

> The first times Arthur shared with the reader, between kisses, dances and secrets. Hope you like it! :)

Arthur and you hurriedly climbed the stairs, giggling like little kids racing after a price. By the time you reached your floor you were panting. You were laughing so hard you began to snort while you took deep breaths to try and calm your racing heart. The heavy rain had drenched your clothes, making them cling to your body like a second skin. 

Arthur’s hair was damp, some strands sticking to his forehead and cheeks. In that moment he looked boyish, free. There was a wild glint in his eyes that made your stomach feel _funny_, and lord- under the lamp above your door he was positively _ glowing _.

Shaking with adrenaline and happiness you clumsily opened the door of your apartment and the both of you stumbled inside, limbs crashing against each other when you tried to enter through the door at the same time.

He took off his soaked jacket and you discreetly admired the way his shirt clung to his torso.

Lighting illuminated the room in a blue hue before the inevitable thunderous sound followed, breaking the calm atmosphere. But Arthur, for once, seemed unfazed by the world around. He grinned lazily at you before bowing his head.

“May I have this dance?” He asked with a flourish of his hand.

A nervous bubble of laughter passed your lips, hands trembling with anticipation before you blurted, “without music?”

“Ah!”, he raised his right finger and nodded once, “let me arrange that”.

He picked a record from your small collection and put it on the player. Softly, _ Put your head on my shoulder _by Paul Ankastarted playing and he turned to you with a wink as he began swaying with the rhythm, a smirk playing on his lips as he started getting closer and closer to you with well placed steps, his body in perfect tune with the slow music. Arthur circled you, locking his gaze with yours before the tip of his fingers reached your cold ones and gently took your hand into his. A giggle escaped your lips as he placed a lingering kiss on your knuckles. And you could have fainted from the intensity of his eyes alone.

Placing your free hand on his shoulder, you felt his unoccupied arm circle your waist, palm resting firmly on your lower back. 

He guided your feet with his swaying, in perfect sync with the music. Following the song’s lyrics you put your head on his damp, warm shoulder, a strand of his hair tickling your forehead.

A sweet minute into the song, Arthur twirled you twice, his movements elegant and grand. Heart racing, your abrupt timid laughter quietened down when you fell into his warm embrace once again. This confidence, _this Arthur_, it was a version of him you had only caught glimpses of, but you loved every bit of it.

He guided your steps with his own and smoothly pulled you even closer to him. His body molded to yours so closely, you were afraid he’d feel your erratic heartbeat jumping right above his chest. Soon everything, from your breathing to your feet, stayed in sync with the music, with _him_.

You looked up at Arthur and found his gaze already on you shining with a strong emotion that was suffocating in the best way possible.

God, he was _ beautiful _. 

Your mind felt hazy, and you'd have sworn that you were dreaming if it wasn't for the heat of his body, the feel of his fingers strocking yours that reminded you that _yes,_ you were alive, you were awake, you were_ with him_.

His lips parted softly and you felt his warm breath fanning your face before you licked your lips. His eyes followed the movement and you felt tingles bubbling in your stomach.

Warmth spreaded right from were his skin was touching yours and chased the cold away.

Was he going to kiss you? You wanted to kiss him.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, his hand replacing its place on your hand with your cheek, then the other one tenderly grabbing the other side of your face. Your own fingers circled his wrists. 

_ Almost there. _

Suddenly, the room was filled with light and then, with a roar, the fucking power went_ out _making you jump in fright.

Arthur’s forehead fell into your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You inwardly groaned.

Talk about killing the mood.


	2. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How you met

As an intern in Gotham General Hospital you had to do a little bit of everything to learn as much as you could in the shortest possible time. Some days it feel like they were squeezing your desire to get up in the morning due to the many tasks that you had to complete daily. But, they liked free work and you had to do what they told you to graduate.

Today it was your turn to be with the children; to be true, you loved little kids, but seeing them sick and suffering struck a nerve within you that put you on edge. Most children were innocent and hadn’t harmed anyone; you never understood why the good ones had to suffer while the bad thrived. But then again, life wasn’t known for being fair.

With the faint smell of bleach suffocating your nostrils, you walked with a heavy heart to the pediatric ward, hoping to make their day a little better and praying that all went well. As you turned a corner your superior stopped you, calling your name.

“Yes, Doctor?” you asked politely.

“There’s a clown putting a show for the children. Just check that Smith doesn’t agitate herself too much. Food will be served in ten minutes”.

“Understood”, you nodded and kept on your way.

When you entered the white room, the colleague you were going to relieve nodded at you and stopped the commotion inside.

“Attention please!” she clapped twice, “this is your new nurse”, she pointed at you while introducing you to the people inside. “She’ll stay with you for now, okay? I hope you’re good to her. Now, I’m going to get my lunch- Please behave, I’ll see you later”.

You felt dozens of eyes turn to you, curiously inspecting your person as some of the children said goodbye to your colleague.

“Hi!” you greeted, hiding your nervousness at being the center of attention. “It’s nice to meet you. Were you having fun?”

Some kids squealed an excited _yes!_ while clapping their hands.

What was being tired compared to having cancer? What was working extra hours compared to having broken bones? Their happiness was contagious, it was enough to make your face split into a big smile. “That’s amazing!” you beamed.

Your eyes traveled to the clown in the middle of the room. A bright splotch of color in the overall white, sterile walls and you gave him a smile as you walked towards him.

“Hi, I just wanted to thank you for what you do. It’s a beautiful profession and you have no idea how much better you make the little ones’ days”. You squeezed his shoulder in gratefulness. “God knows they need a little cheering every once in a while”.

“Thank you,” his lips curled into a shy smile. “I like making people laugh. I’m glad it helps”.

“Of course”, you nodded welcomingly before he introduced himself as Arthur. You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair into the back of your ear and told him your name in exchange.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Arthur. Well, I’ll leave you to your show before they start getting impatient”, you pointed towards the awaiting children with your thumb before walking towards the wall, letting the clown work his magic.

Ten minutes into his performance some children were grabbing their tummies, the room filled with giggles and squeals of happiness. Some of his jokes were a little too dark and thoughtful for the children, but it always surprised you how smart they actually were, taking the puns in stride and asking for _one more, mister clown!_

It was at that moment that Arthur decided to start performing his magic tricks. He looked at you with a cheeky smile and pulled a magic plastic wand from one of the pockets of his green pants, raising it in the air. The kids put all their attention in the clown as he tapped it twice with an air of mysteriousness, he then waved it and pointed it at you. You curiously looked at him, but of course as was expected, nothing happened.

Arthur tapped one of his big shoes as he put a hand under his chin as if in deep thought. Then, he raised a finger in the air, his face illuminating with an idea. You could almost see a lightbulb appearing above his head. He reached his hand out, handing you the wand and you grasped it firmly between your palm, feeling a little anxious at all the attention your small public was showering you with.

When you held the wand in your hand it became completely flaccid and the children started laughing with glee, your own face breaking into a smile. You waved it at the clown trying to maintain the entertainment for the children, but the wand didn’t straighten. It was like trying to keep a fresh gummy worm rigid. Imposible.

The clown then extended his hand at you, palm up and you returned the item. Wand going straight once it was back in his domain. He looked at the children, who were completely captivated and then waved the wand at you once again. This time, a bouquet of plastic flowers emerged from the tip, the action actually managed to steal a shocked gasp out of you while the kids started clapping in amazement; you couldn’t help but do the same.

“For you”, Arthur said, lips curling up into a smile while he extended the colorful flowers.

“Oh- Thank you, mister clown. They are very pretty,” you made a show of sniffing them and pretended they were the best smelling flowers in the world, “they smell like magic”. You exaggerated your expression of amazement, widening your eyes almost comically to put on a show for the kids.

Some of the younger children asked to smell the flowers too and you retired yourself to the corner showing them your bouquet while Arthur continued his spectacle . You caught his gaze throughout the rest of the afternoon and hoped your cheeks were not as red as they felt. 

Occupying yourself with feeding the younger ones the time went flying and soon it was Arthur’s turn to leave. 

“Nooo,” one of the girls whined, “I don’ want ‘im to go, miss!” she pulled your uniform in her fist, pouting.

“He’ll come back soon, little one” you straightened her blouse, combing stray hairs back. “He needs to sleep so he can... recharge his fun box”.

_ Seriously? Fun box? You dumb- _

A loud sudden “_H_ _ a ha ha! _ ” made you turn. The culprit of said sudden laughter was currently covering his mouth with both hands avoiding your gaze. 

“What’s a fun box, miss?” The little girl claimed your attention once again, rubbing her eye tiredly, her pout not yet leaving her face. You turned towards her, a little warm in the face.

“It’s like… Like their healing magic, you know... they heal with fun! And if they don’t rest, then they can’t be funny and therefore they can’t heal”.

“But miss…”

“It’s-” Arthur, who had clearly been listening in on your conversation with the girl, cleared his throat, “that’s very true. She is very wise”, he swayed in his spot, arms behind his back, a look of innocence filling his expression, though mirth was dancing in his green eyes. He had been lingering close, and when the little girl perked up and sat down willingly you send him a grateful smile, for she seemed more open to obey his words than yours.

“Okay, mister clown! I hope your fun magic gets well!”

He gave her a toothy grin, thanking her with a dramatic bow, his arms wide open. Then, he raised, turning his gaze towards you, “I hope to see you soon, once my fun box gets full again, _ha ha!_”, he slapped a hand over his mouth, covering his sudden laughter and somehow you found the action oddly adorable.

You felt yourself flush, so indeed he  _ did _ heard  _ that _ ... “yeah, thank you about that. See you around”.

His eyes widened for a second before he fished a piece of paper out of his jacket, an address written with pen greeted your sight.

“I like comedy”, he said as a way of an explanation, “I’ll give a show on friday at 8 pm, I… I’d like for you to come”.

There was a certain urgency in his gaze, almost as if he was pleading with you to see his performance. And well, he had been nothing but nice and he seemed like a good guy, a little quirky but good, and friday at 8pm? Yeah, you were free.

“I think I’ll see you there, Arthur.”.

The smile Arthur sent you rivaled the sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you’re liking this story so far. I added some tags of what is to come in the next chapters. I am a little nervous because I’ve never published smut before but I'll do my best to make it go as smooth as possible.
> 
> Thanks a lot to everyone who commented and left kudos, you made my day!


	3. Unravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur discovers something important.

The thought of you followed Arthur like his own shadow for so long, it began taking deep root in his mind. It was as if you had planted a seed inside his brain and it had been growing and blooming in all the crevices and corners of his being.

And suddenly,

Suddenly,

You were _ everywhere _. 

When sleep claimed him at night, you walked in his dreams with soft smiles and warm hands, and when he woke you were there behind every blink. 

Sometimes he thought you were a figment of his imagination, a ghost; for he certainly felt haunted, but you were perhaps the best thing that had ever crossed his path. 

He heard your laughter too, sometimes it was vivid enough to confound him and he had to shake his head a few times to dissipate it. Still, the sweet melody persisted, resonating through his head at the most inconvenient of times. 

It had been that way since the first time he saw you.

Arthur supposed it made sense, this... infatuation he had with you. You were kind and he found you very, very pretty. He knew that those words, kind and pretty, didn’t always go hand in hand, at least not in a place as rotten as Gotham, but you- you managed to flourish like a flower on the pavement.

And you **_saw_** **him**. 

When you looked at him, Arthur felt something he had long since given up hope for: He felt a want to live. And in the few moments he was with you, he mattered, and finally he wasn’t as alone in this world as he initially thought he was. 

With you he was real, he really was.

How your soul remained soft, he didn’t know, and frankly, it didn’t matter, you were who you were and that was it. You were **benign** and felt like a soothing paste to a burning wound. Your presence alone gave him more peace of mind that ten thousand packets of cigarettes ever could. That’s why his heart imprinted on you without his permission. But who was he trying to fool? He would give you permission to invade his very soul any day, no question.

Taking a drag of his cigarette Arthur leaned his head back on the chair he was sitting on, eyes closed as he exhaled slowly, the smoke dancing in the air. When he opened his eyes, it unraveled a secret.

_ What a secret that was. _

The fog that covered his rationality fell away like someone pulling back the curtains on a window. 

He liked you, he realized. 

Plain

and

simple. 

He liked you _ a lot _. 

With that realization settling down, his mind was filled with fragments of your voice. Suddenly, he was in a high, pupils blown wide and heart thundering inside his ribcage. Excitement mixing with anxiety. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but as odd as it was, it felt...nice.

And in that mindset Arthur wondered... what would it be like to hold your hand? To kiss you? To call you _ his _ girl? To take your clothes off and sink himself _ deeply _ into you and-

Not now.

_ Not _now.

Arthur righted himself on his seat, eyes clenched tight, before extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray sitting atop the table. 

You had been so kind to him and here he was, tainting your image with dirty thoughts like an animal in heat. 

How_ shameful. _

His hands went to his head, combing his hair as he exhaled deeply.

What good did those thoughts...those feelings do? Even if he let them grow, were you ever going to see him as someone worthy of loving? 

Arthur looked at his reflection on the black television screen. His clown makeup was still there from his job this afternoon, and while it painted parts of his skin, nothing could hide the dullness of his eyes and the tiredness of his soul accumulated by years of hopelessness.

Like an unwelcome itch, Arthur felt the intrusive tension filling the muscles of his throat as he tried to stop his ill-timed laughter from spilling, but just like the last time and the time before that, he fucking _ couldn’t _. He grabbed at his neck and tried to keep his mouth shut to no avail. In the television’s reflection, he watched the unpainted parts of his face and neck go red. And just like time, like destiny, his laughter was unstoppable. Eventually, he just let go.

With his mother sleeping and the quietness overtaking the building with particular heaviness, his laughter seemed amplified.

After what felt like eons, with the muscles of his abdomen contracting with spasms, his laughing fit finally receded; it left him breathless and tired. So fucking tired all the time.

Arthur raised and walked quietly to the bathroom, he washed his face to take off the paint. And amongst all his pain and exhaustion, a small, flickering flame persisted in the vast darkness of his mind, for he remembered something important: he’d see you tonight. 

Arthur hoped- Oh how he _ hoped _to one day call you his. 

_ Maybe one day _ , an unfamiliar voice whispered, _ maybe she’ll _ see, _ maybe she’ll surrender herself to you, body and soul, just like you are already hers. _

He clinged onto hope like never before. 

Arthur hoped, Arthur wanted, Arthur felt _ alive _. 

Feeling renewed, a small but growing flicker of happiness filled his soul. It started small and tender, but it was _ there _. 

His lips pulled into a big smile.

It was in that moment that Arthur promised he’d protect you, from the world outside and from himself. But, try as he might, he couldn’t deprive himself from seeing you, not when lately you were the only source of happiness in his days.

With a sprint to his step he got ready for his date with you.

* * *

The bar Arthur was presenting was small and warm. The lights, serving as both decoration and service, were dim and you thank your past self for choosing to wear comfortable shoes as you moved around tables and people swarming around, the strong scent of alcohol and cigarettes mixed with perfume hitting your nose. 

There was no sign of Arthur when you arrived, so you took off your sweater and sat down at a lone table at the back. A waiter came a few minutes after and asked if you wanted a drink. You thought it was better to avoid getting even a bit tipsy, after all, you had to walk back home after the show and needed to have your five senses at the ready should any trouble arise, so you order cold water and fold your arms in the table while waiting for the show to start.

After a couple of minutes, taking a sip of your water you watched the reason you came to this place getting up on stage after they announced his name to the public. Arthur looked fidgety and nervous, a worn notebook held tightly in one hand as he adjusted the microphone with the other. He cleared his throat loudly, so close to the microphone the sound thundered all over the bar. Jittery, Arthur started searching the faces of the audience.

You noticed he looked even thinner without his clown uniform. He was wearing a wig of puffy green hair the first time you saw him but now you could see _ his _ hair, it was of a soft brown color, wavy in texture, and unlike last time in the hospital, Arthur looked troubled. Sweat started gathering above his brow, fingers twitching and flexing over his notebook. The tension he was feeling was contagious and soon you felt anxiety creep into your bones, one of your shoes started tapping a rapid rhythm against the ground. And then the worst came when he tried to speak but instead laughter bubbled from his mouth and he didn’t- _ couldn’t _stop. 

Something was wrong. 

Arthur grabbed his throat as if he had something stuck in there as he continued with that high pitched cackle. The uncomfortable thing was that his laughter was not out of happiness, with his lips turned down into a distressed frown and his brow wrinkled in anguish, it was was painfully obvious he wanted to stop but for some odd reason he couldn’t.

A knot settled inside your gut as you watched him helplessly. 

The people around began to murmur and look at him as if he was a freak in the circus.

Couldn’t people see he was suffering?

Oh god.

You were about to raise and take him outside for some fresh air and do whatever it was that would help him when-

“Did I miss the fucking joke or what?” A drunk jerk yelled mockingly and your blood boiled. You couldn’t stop your mouth from shouting.

“Shut up, _ asshole _!”

The group of equally drunk people that was sitting with the idiot cackled and jeered at him and you felt a calm sense of satisfaction when the moron retracted into himself, not before sending you a hateful glare.

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under.

_ Good. _People like this made you feel like it was an honor to be disliked. 

You turned to the stage, ignoring the scandalized looks and hushed word from the people around and caught the wide eyed gaze of a now quiet Arthur. He blinked in shock and then, as if nothing had happened, he cleared his throat, opened his notebook while straightening his posture, and started his show.

His performance didn’t last long. Fifteen minutes in total and you were chuckling at the man’s clevernes, even through the nervous energy that decided to nest inside your gut. It seemed some of his jokes went flying past most of the tasteless public. 

Arthur got so into his work that it was like watching a totally different person. Through his gig, you caught a glint of cheekiness in his eyes every now and then and you found yourself liking it a little too much. He had talent, you could see, and you were beginning to relax into your seat when he finished for the day.

When Arthur’s turn was over, you made a beeline for the door. Once the cool night air hit your face you inhaled deeply. Hearing your name being called by a familiar voice, you turned around with a smile.

“Arthur, hi. That was amazing!”.

“Thank you for coming”, he looked down, sheepish.

"Yeah, no problem, I had fun. I'm sorry about the moron that interrupted you, though, I swear some people just walk around without brains, it's like a disease!"

You realized you had said the wrong thing when you noticed his mood becoming solemn, lips turning downwards. 

“I... yeah, I wanted to...thank you about…_ ha! _ Sorry, I- _ Ha Ha Ha! _”

Helplessly, you watched as he searched his pockets desperately, painful laughter blurting out of his downturned mouth, until he pulled a worn piece of paper and handed it to you. 

_ Forgive my laughter. I have a condition (more on back) _

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“Arthur, shit, I’m sorry. What do I do?”, you felt useless in that moment, poor Arthur tried to stop a neurological condition for fear of... what? Probably idiots like the one at his show that just talked because they had a fucking mouth. 

You tried to help him with the knowledge you had of panic attacks, he seemed on the verge of one.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” you whispered, hand going to his back and rubbing gentle, soothing circles over his thin shirt. “Just let it be, honey”.

After more words of comfort, his laughter eventually subsided. And the first words he spoke after his episode almost broke your heart.

“I’m sorry-”.

“Don’t”, you stopped him, looking him dead in the eye “don’t apologize for something you can’t control. You have nothing to be sorry for, alright? It’d be like apologizing for... _ sneezing _!”

With a tilted head, Arthur looked at you, eyes boring into your own with such an intensity it made you nervous.

Finally he told you, “thank you”, voice soft but firm.

You smiled softly and squeezed his arm in return seeing his own face break into a soft smile.

“That’s it,” you praised, then, “Arthur, I’m really sorry, but it’s a bit late and it’s quite a long ride home so…” you raised a shoulder to your ear, “I can’t stay longer”.

“Are you going home?” At your confirmation, he said, “I can walk you home”.

“Really?” He nodded, “I’d love that”.

And so the two of you made your way through the dark streets, chating the night away as you walked towards the subway. You learned a few things from him:

He was a party clown for a living, but his dream was becoming a stand-up comedian.

_ “I like making people laugh”. _

_ “I see. That’s pretty cool!” _

He lived with his mother.

_ “She needs me. She’s been very ill lately”. _

_ “I’m sorry Arthur, if I can help in any way, count on me”. _

His favorite thing to watch on TV was the Murray Franklin Show.

_ “Have you watched it?” _

_ “No, but now that you say it’s so good, I’ll have to watch it!” _

_ “Would you like to watch it with me sometime?” _

_ “I’d love to!” _

And Arthur… He had lovely green eyes that crinkled when he found something pleasant. 

When you made it outside your apartment you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and motioned to the old, woodsy door. “Well, this is my home sweet home”.

His good mood seemed to vanish like fog in the air.You noticed his posture become more hunched and sad, as if suddenly he remembered something he wanted to forget. Melancholy filled his eyes as the corner of his lips turned down slightly.

“Hey,” you said softly, waiting for his downward gaze to lock into yours, “are you alright?”

“Can I… see you again?” the words were whispered so low you had to lean a little to hear them.

“Of course. We have that TV show date night, right?”

Why would you not want to see him again?

“Yeah. Right, right”. He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for all the feedback! It makes me unbelievably happy that you're enjoying this little story. I hope you like this chapter.


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